


Reconnect

by Seenik



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/F, Gen, in the best of ways though, slowburn fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 06:44:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17913800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seenik/pseuds/Seenik
Summary: Cersei reflects on her current mess of a life during a long, snowy walk to Lyanna's place.





	Reconnect

She hated everything about this gods damned city.

The ever constant noise, the ever present clusters of people, and the smells that seemed to linger long after the source of it had been passed, forever etched into her mind, no matter how much she'd like to forget.

_Forget._ That's exactly what she'd been trying to do since she'd gotten to King's Landing, but somehow, the city wouldn't even let her do _that_ properly. Every corner turn and she'd run into the face of someone she was earnestly trying to forget or the voice of someone else she'd convinced herself never existed at all. The streets were always filthy and the skyline always seemed to be cloaked in a dismal grey that was as far from the the golden hues cast over Casterly Rock as the distance between the two coasts themselves. Still, the differences between home and here did no more than feed the hatred for her new residence further and make her think fondly on the places she'd left behind. _I left for a reason, I really need to remember that._ Some days it was easier than others.

Walking in the snow, she'd discovered about herself, was one of her least favorite things to do. It was past ten, dark (even with the streetlights on), and fresh flurries were starting to fall. There was day old slush beneath her feet and beneath that an uneven crust of dirty ice, making the walk from an apartment in damn near Flea Bottom ( _good riddance_ ) to Lyanna's loft in Cobbler's Square a particular kind of torture. She had with her, in a backpack, an overnight bag, and a roll-about luggage, everything she owned at the present moment, save the futon she'd bought when she first moved in with Varys two months ago. _And why did I ever think that was a good idea?_

They'd known each other from the time before her father has resigned from office. He was an intern of sorts at the Red Keep and he'd always had a sense of humor in line with her own. When he'd heard (who knows how he heard anything) that she was staying at a hotel, and not the type to be paid for by her father, he offered to let her stay in his apartment on the east side, free of charge. She took him up on it immediately, it were almost as if she'd forgotten everything she'd ever learned about favors and debts. _Not that Varys let me forget for long_ , she thought as she hit another red light at an empty corner.

He'd soon discovered that she was in hiding, a secret that he was chomping at the bit to let slip at a moment's notice for the right price, Cersei was sure, no matter how many times he'd assured her that he would _never ever_ , that her secret was safe with him. In the end, she trusted him as far as she could throw him, and she couldn't lift him if she were paid to. _And thank the gods for Lya, now I won't have to._

She was glad she'd met Lyanna Stark again.

It was too late to officially start classes at King's Landing Community when she'd arrived at the end of November, but she was allowed to audit a creative writing class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, just to keep herself somewhat busy, and that was where she saw her. She hadn't changed much since the last time Cersei had seen her four years ago, a bit taller maybe, still pretty in that angular featured Northern way. Truth be told, she looked like the prettiest boy she'd ever seen, prettier than Jaime even, with a knitted cap slouched atop her messy dark brown hair and an easy smile plastered on her face for the group she seemed to be entertaining when Cersei walked into the classroom. Cersei decided right away that she wouldn't approach her, that the best thing to do would be to ignore her all together and take a seat in the back.

"You gotta be fuckin' kidding me..."

Cersei stopped walking halfway to her destination and even before she turned she knew the comment was meant for her. Before she could say anything, Lyanna had walked across the room, weaving through students to get to her.

"Hey you, long time no see."

People were staring and being noticed was high on Cersei's list of things to avoid, so she’d smiled her fakest smile and said, "I'm sorry, I don't think we've ever met, but I'm Ama Hill, I'm new here."

Lyanna's grey eyes almost gave her face away, but she’d smiled back and extended her hand, “Yeah, you're right, I don't think we have. Nice to meet you Ama Hill.”

The way she'd said it made Cersei afraid that she was going to turn it into an exhausting game of mental back and forth, but Lyanna simply broke eye contact and went back to her friends. They didn't speak again until the following Thursday, while Cersei was trying to eat lunch in the student lounge. She felt a light tap on her shoulder as the voice behind her said, "Hey."

Cersei looked around to see if anyone was paying attention (she was always checking to see who was paying attention to her these days) and when she was sure that no one was, she answered back, “Hey.”

Lyanna must have taken it as an invitation to sit down at the table with her, because she pulled up a chair, and continued the conversation, "I like your fake name. I mean Hill isn't the name I'd give myself if _I_ were from a famous family in the west and also running away from said family, but still, I like it.”

Cersei narrowed her eyes, "And who says I'm running away from anything?"

"I mean, it's either that or you're doing some kind of sick 'privileged kid pretends to be poor' experiment to prove something to yourself."

"And which one is it for you? I seem to recall you being plagued by the same sort of privilege that I am Lya, so why are _you_ here?"

"Oh, I'm a definite runaway, I admit it, and I don't use a fake name either. Back to you, you totally didn't answer th-”

"Can I do something for you or..?"

The smirk on Lyanna's face faded, “It's been a really long time since we've talked and I just wanted to see if everything was ok with you, that's all.”

Cersei saw no trace of malice in her face, but trust wasn't something she could afford to keep giving out freely. "Yeah”, she sighed, “I'm all the way good. Thanks for asking.”

Lyanna laughed louder than Cersei would have liked, "That was so weak! Lie better than that, come on."

Even as children, Lyanna had been one of the few people that could get under her skin, and as ever, it irritated the fuck out of her. Only half finished her lunch, she'd moved to start packing her things up when Lyanna touched her hand and said, “Wait. Don’t go, I’m sorry. I just-” She sighed and Cersei thought she’d looked like a stupid puppy, her big, sad eyes pleading for a second chance at one of the most futile conversation she had ever had. But she sat back down, and restarted the first of several conversations they’d have over the next few weeks, including one in which Lyanna told her that if, for whatever reason, Cersei ever found herself without a place to stay, she could always come and stay with her.

Well, ‘for whatever reason’ had happened and now Cersei was trekking through the freezing January sludge across King’s Landing to take her up on the offer. _Why in the seven hells didn’t I take the subway?_ she complained to herself, until she remembered that she’d decided against it, thinking that taking the easy way was the best way to get caught. Although in hindsight, they had cars and on foot, she was a hell of a lot easier to catch outside than if she’d just taken the train. _But then there’s all those damn stairs and I’d have had to walk to the station to get on and from the station to get to Lya’s…_

She was driving herself crazy with all of the alternative routes she could have taken, and was on the verge of a panic attack in the middle of a crosswalk, when she remembered who her father had sent to find her and that, ultimately, she was smarter than they were.

The spring semester had started that week, and she was on her way home from a fully scheduled day of classes when she spotted Varys on the front steps of the apartment, talking to a pair of men in suits. She’d stopped walking to keep far enough out of their sights, and though she couldn’t hear a word they were saying (although the look on Varys’ face was enough to tell her that it wasn’t anything good), they were men she’d recognize anywhere. Lorch and Clegane, her father’s goon squad of sorts, guards he paid to make things happen, anytime, anywhere and she was sure his top dogs had been sent out to find her.

They made an interesting pair. Clegane was the biggest person she’d ever seen, and although Lorch was big around the middle, he looked like a chubby, balding child next to his partner. The latter was the voice of the duo however, and the one that looked to be asking Varys all the questions Cersei couldn’t hear, with Clegane content to just tower over Varys menacingly. They were there a good ten minutes more before Lorch handed something to Varys and started down the stairs to the black SUV parked in front of the building, stopping briefly to call Clegane back to the car with him, as the big man still lingered. If they noticed her while they drove by, with her hood down and her scarf up over her face, looking more like a high school kid from Eel Alley than a fashionable heiress near twenty from uptown, they never gave the slightest hint.

She’d circled the block a few times before heading inside, just to make sure they were truly gone, and when she got in, Varys never said a word about it. He’d talked her ear off about the drama at work, asked her briefly about how classes were going, hardly waited for an answer before asking her if she wanted to go out to a bar with him, and pretended to be hurt when she declined. She thought about confronting him after he got out of the shower, but convinced herself that he’d lie about any accusation she laid at his feet, so she decided to go look for what Lorch had given him instead.

For such a messy disposition, his apartment was impeccably clean, his room being the cleanest part of all. Save for his closet, which was overfilled with way too many clashing styles, the rest of the room was fairly minimalist, with just a twin bed, a desk, a chair, and a small bookcase. His laptop was open, but his lockscreen was up, unfortunately. His desk drawer, however, was slightly opened, and it was almost too good to be true. She’d listened to make sure that the door was still closed and the shower still running, then she’d carefully pulled the drawer out more, so that she could see inside.

On top of the monogrammed stationary and the perfectly lined pens, she’d found a thick envelope with a telephone number scrawled on the back. A number with a Casterly Rock area code. _Fuck._ The envelope had been opened, but remaining inside was a stack of dragons, all of the bills crisp and unfolded. _This bitch is gonna sell me out_ , she’d realized the instant the shower turned off. Thinking quickly, she returned the drawer to it’s original state and moved over to the closet before Varys came into the room wearing a towel. “And just what the hell are you doing in my closet young lady?” he drawled with a smirk curling on his lip. Without missing a beat she answered, “Looking for that cardigan I let you borrow last week, where is it?”

“And why would I hang that rag in my closet? I folded it and put it with the rest of your pile out there.”

“How kind of you.”

“Anything for you darling. Now get out of my room and don’t come back unless you’re invited.”

He’d left a half hour later and by then she’d already come up with her escape plan. She’d packed all her things, sent a text to Lyanna telling her to get the couch ready, and took one last, uninvited, trip into Varys’ room. He’d left everything right where it was before, including the money. _Idiot._

Now she was coming up on the Square, thanking the gods she’d thought to wear the practical boots instead of the cute ones. It was tough to walk there, the salt trucks hadn’t gotten around to clearing the ground in the smaller neighborhoods yet, and the luggage didn’t roll as easily as it did the hour before when she’d started out either. Her back hurt, and the snow was falling harder now, wind blowing straight at her face, stinging more hot than cold. _Like the ashes from Bobby’s cigarettes_. For a moment she had a memory and she could feel the tiny hot flecks still being flicked in her face, then the open hand that crashed into ear right after. _I left for a reason_. And that was that.

A block and a half later and she was turning onto the street where Lyanna lived. She got to the front steps and called Lya’s cell, “Hey, I’m downstairs.”

Not two minutes later, her Northern Savior was downstairs in a hoodie, pyjama pants and sandals, like it wasn’t snowing outside at all, “Damn girl, I thought you said you were travelling light?”

“Can you just help please? Some of us normal people actually feel cold.”

“It’s not my fault you southroners can’t handle the elements. And nobody told you to walk all the way here weirdo.”

“Yeah, well, nobody told _you_ it was appropriate to wear sandals in January, yet, here we are.”

Lyanna laughed as she lifted the luggage up the stone steps covered in fresh snow, “Touche Lannister, Touche.”

**Author's Note:**

> These will be a series of snapshots for ASoIaF rarepairs week, only parts of the whole story that I have in my head. 
> 
> This is my first ever published fic on A03 and I'd love any kind of feedback!


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